Hiroko's Sword
by Takahashi
Summary: Amaya's past beginning to unfold, A new beginning. summary is crap, I know.


**WHTHFUXUP WITH HIROKO'S SWORD? **

Have you ever wanted to ask me that? Well, you see, it was his father's sword.

Huh? Hiroko cares about that shit? What?

Well not now, certainly. But when he received it, his father was the most important thing in his life. And he was dying.

_Hiroko's Sword_

_One-shot_

_Past pain reveals a new truth_

Amaya lay on the ground after her three-hour training session with her father, her five-year-old body too exhausted to move. She glanced up at her father, hoping for some kind of recognition, some sort of sign that she had done well. But there was none in the silvery-grey depths of her father's eyes. She saw only a mirror in them, herself, lying pathetic on the ground, and nothing at all of him. She refused to allow tears to well up in her eyes, instead closing them and forcing them away. Should she cry, would he think it because of the pain? Would he see it as another proof of her weakness? She would not give him more reason to despise her. Ignoring the pain, accepting it as her due, along with the dispassionate glance of her father, she forced herself to her feet and stood, her body oozing exhaustion.

"Again." She said simply. Her eyes closed, she didn't see the flicker of pride that ran through Raiso's eyes, or the ghost of a smile that played on his lips. He shifted into an attack position obligingly, knowing that his stubborn daughter would continue to stand until she absolutely could not. Until her body fell down and she reached her limits as an adult, not as a child, she would keep fighting.

"Prepare yourself." He responded as her head lifted and her eyes opened to meet his, her ice blue eyes sharp and unfazed by the pain within her body. Though she had little chakra left, what was there glowed brightly behind her eyes. Roots came from under the ground, attacking him, and he smiled mentally, able to say her words at the same time she did, but not doing so.

"I am prepared. Less talking, more fighting." Perhaps it was strange for a five-year-old to think and speak in this way; but Amaya was anything but typical. He defended against her attack without showing how it was fatiguing him. Soon it would be dangerous for him to personally train her alone like this. One day she would beat him, and then she would see no purpose to becoming stronger. If only she would apply this sort of concentration to other areas of concern to him then perhaps he could let up some on the harsh training schedule he laid on her. But she was only this focused on her fighting. This was a fine quality for a boy, but a girl should apply herself to other things more than fighting. Women were child bearers and mothers first; anything else came second. He continued to defend himself against her attack until he managed to get a strong hit in, knocking her to the ground.

"Such a pity you're a girl. You would have made a strong boy. I am done. I've tired of this game for today." A boy with the light green eyes that was typical of the Aki clan ran over to Amaya, pushing a strand of unruly brown hair out of his face with his hand as he skidded to a halt next to her, dropping to his knees to help her sit up, though she tried to push him away. Knowing her pride, he didn't take offence at this, allowing her to push herself up.

"Raiso-sama… Don't you think you are a little hard on her? She's a great fighter for her age, even if she's a girl." Raiso looked at him emotionlessly.

"That's not enough, Hiroko. She is a ninja. She has to be stronger, better, faster than any male because she is my daughter, because she is a female. She has to be _the_ best, not her best. I do not expect her to match Riku, I expect Amaya to surpass her. Or she will serve no purpose. I do not need useless tools. She knows this. So she will work hard to surpass Riku, or she will give up fighting." This was a rather long speech for Raiso, who never deigned to explain himself unless it served him some purpose. After he finished, he simply disappeared into thin air. Hiroko looked after him for a moment, then sighed and shook his head.

"What an ass." Hiroko said, rolling his eyes. "C'mon Amaya, let me help you up." He said, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. She smiled, grateful now for his help, grateful for the simple kindness he offered her. He swept his hand under her knees, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms. She blushed brightly as he smiled down at her. "C'mon cutie. I'll take you home." She shook her head lightly, blushing more at his comment.

"I-I'm not cute…" Hiroko laughed.

"Says who, your father? He wouldn't know cute if it ran up to him with Riku's clothes." Amaya laughed at that, but shook her head again.

"No... The people in town. They say I'm ugly…" He sighed, knowing exactly why they said so, even though it was untrue.

"No, Amaya, You're not ugly, they are. They can't see past a simple marking on your skin to the cutie beneath." He shifted her so she had to meet his eyes. "You're the cutest damn thing I've ever seen, no kidding." She giggled softly, reassured by his words.

"How's your father, Hiroko?" Amaya asked, and Hiroko sighed, shrugging one shoulder.

"Better, you know. But he won't say where it hurts; he refuses to 'whine about his condition' as he says. It gives the doctors a hard time treating him." Amaya nodded, looking up at the boy. "But I'm sure he'll get better soon, he always does. Thank you for asking though." Amaya smiled. They walked in silence for a while, him carrying her to her house, before Hiroko paused, put Amaya down, and looked in her eyes.

"Amaya… I have to tell you something." She met his gaze, confused, and slightly worried. She nodded wordlessly. "Your father…. I am no longer on the list of prospective husbands for you." She blinked in surprise.

"But you're one of the strongest-"

"I know." He interrupted her. "But there is another. Stronger… and younger than me… that he is looking at now. You know he only cares about strong male offspring. The clan the other boy is from has more male births than female ones; like the Aki clan, has more females born than males. He thinks it will balance things out." He kissed her forehead lightly. "I hope he chooses well for you, Amaya. Someone kind and open hearted." She had to know. The question welled up inside her, forcing its way to the surface.

"Which clan is this person from?" He looked at her.

"He's from the Uchiha clan." Her eyes brightened with hope.

"Well, that's okay then!" Amaya said excitedly. "I have… I mean, I know some people who are nice from there…." Hiroko sighed.

"He won't pair you off with your little Sasuke-kun, Amaya." Amaya only smiled.

"But still, I'll get to see him, him and Ita-kun, all the time! That would be wonderful!" Hiroko smiled at her exuberance, shaking his head slightly and hoisting her into his arms again.

"Alright. Trust you to be the one to find a bright side in everything. C'mon. Akina's probably getting worried."

Hiroko walked into his house later that day, a smile still on his face. He knew he would be in trouble because of the late hour, but the expected scolding didn't come. Instead, only his father's cough and the sound of his mother's sobbing call for him to come see his father. Hiroko dropped everything and ran into the bedroom.

"Mom, Dad, what's wrong?" He asked as soon as his feet halted next to the bed. He had never seen his mother cry before this moment. When Raiso spoke of strong Kunoichi, Hiroko had always pictured his mother the way she was when she had protected everyone from the attack on the village when he was eight. She had fought alone, the only one with any ability to fight in the village until he had the presence of mind to call Raiso before rushing into the tumult himself. His mother called him reckless and foolish; His father and Raiso both had called him brave, though the former had tacked on, 'stupidly so' after a stern look from his mother. They had all begun to train him, His mother in the Shinobi arts and his unique kekkei genkai, his father in the Bushido code, the ways of the Samurai, And Raiso had Riku teach him simple Taijutsu, the art of hand-to-hand combat. He was nowhere near the woman's level, even now, and it was simply ridiculous to him that Raiso expected Amaya to surpass the woman. His mother wasn't as strong as the young girl was, and she'd trained all her life. His mother pulled him into a hug then, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Hiroko… You-your father… he… He isn't going to make it." Hiroko's eyes widened.

"But-but he was fine yesterday and-" Now he understood the reason for his mother's tears, as his own streaked down his face with his sorrow. He looked at his father with blurred eyes as he worked himself free of his mothers grip and went to hug him.

"Father… you can't die…." His father only looked at him as he returned the hug.

"I am going to, and no one can change this fact, Hiroko." His father sat up and looked around the room at the swords hanging on the walls. He had made them all himself, save the one he took to battle. That one, Hiroko had made with him, the both of them working together to create the finely honed deadly object. He looked at now, as his son cried in his arms at their sword. "Hiroko… Bring me my sword." Hiroko blinked, but stood to retrieve the sword obediently, without question. His hands lifted the sword off the shelf and he carried it to his father, hilt first. The gems on the hilt glittered red, with a light, that at this moment, was beautiful to him. His father drew the sword from the scabbard and sliced at him. Hiroko didn't flinch at all as a thin line of blood appeared and tricked down his cheek.

"This sword is now yours, son. Taking it is a heavy responsibility." He told him, trying to impress upon his son the importance of the action. "Taking it is a promise. You may be a ninja, and they don't feel the same about their weapons as Samurai do, but you must protect this sword at all costs." Hiroko nodded at this. "This sword will be all you have left of me. The day someone takes it from you, it will break. This is your promise to me to remember me for as long as you live. If it breaks, I have renounced you for your weakness. Do you understand this?" Hiroko nodded.

"Yes, father. I understand." Hiroko said, trembling slightly from sadness, and his fear at this coming to pass. "I won't let anyone take this from me ever." His father nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Now, remember, Hiroko, The last day you have for tears is the day of my death. After then, I don't want to see you cry again. I don't want to see fear or weakness in you ever again, or I will renounce you as well." Hiroko nodded, his resolve strengthened by the words. He stopped trembling, and something hard, cold entered his eyes.

"I will make you proud, father."

Below them, in a white room resembling an office cubicle, a young girl, who looked to be about sixteen years of age, looked up at her ceiling. A male sat at her feet, his mop of unruly brown hair in her lap. His age was indeterminate, looking to be somehow young and old at the same time. He looked up at the blue-haired girl stroking his head.

"A new one, Tsunami?" He asked softly, treading very carefully around her. He didn't know her current mood, and though he claimed seniority, in the ranks of hell, such things could change quickly. Her power surpassed his, he knew, so he spoke cautiously around her, lest he anger her and she destroyed him. She nodded, her lips curved.

"Yes, Rai. Actually, come to think of it, two new hell-bound idiots. The father for corrupting a good soul with his pride, and the son for accepting the corruption and allowing it to rule and dominate his better nature." Rai looked up at the devil.

"That's not your position. Pride is my area. You are the devil of Wrath." Tsunami looked down at him and smiled.

"Looks like you moved down a step then, Rai." He suppressed a shiver. She had only been here a little over five years. That was no time at all in the Underland, and already she had the most powerful position in hell. It would be an interesting few decades up above with this one leading. Tsunami smiled and continued to stroke the newly demoted devil of Wrath, knowing he was underestimating her. He thought she would rule for a few decades. He was dead wrong. A few hundred decades, six or seven reincarnation cycles at the very least, she would rule. Then she would retire for a few decades. The position was hers, as long as she wanted it. She knew it was, no Pride involved, no pun intended.


End file.
